by Agatha Frost
Julia slipped into the bedroom and softly closed the door behind her. The distant sunset cast a warm wash across the messy teenager’s room. Julia flicked on the bedside lamp and crept carefully towards Jessie.
“Where did you get that?” Julia asked, spotting the bright pink straightening iron on Jessie’s dressing table.
“Sue gave them to me,” Jessie said as she stared at Julia in the mirror, half her dark black hair straightened, and the other half its usual wavy frizz. “She said I should use them for – never mind.”
“For what?”
Jessie chewed her lip as she stared at Julia in the mirror, the pink sunset filling her pale cheeks with colour. With her hair down and some of it straight, Julia saw a young woman staring back at her instead of a teenager.
“Billy wants to take me out,” Jessie said, glancing at the clock on her bedside table. “He’s coming in twenty minutes.”
“And you’re doing this for him?” Julia glanced at the straighteners, which looked as out of place in Jessie’s bedroom as a large spotted elephant would. “You don’t have to change for anyone, especially not a boy.”
“But Sue said –”
“Sue says a lot of things.” Julia chuckled as she leaned against Jessie’s chair. “She’s been trying to change me her entire life, and I let it go in one ear and out the other.”
Julia picked up a paddle brush and began to brush through Jessie’s hair. The un-straightened pieces were knotty, but she did not flinch as Julia pulled the brush through. They locked eyes in the mirror, sharing a smile that Julia only saw in these softer moments.
“If you want to straighten your hair, I can help you.” Julia picked up the hot device and stared down at it in bewilderment. “I’m not saying I’ll be any better at it than you, in fact, I might be worse, but I can help you get the back a bit better.”
Jessie ran her fingers through the straight pieces framing her face. She observed herself in the mirror, her entire demeanour changing.
A lump suddenly rose in Julia’s throat. She forced it down as she thought back to the sixteen-year-old girl with a dirty face and baggy clothes she had caught stealing from her café at the beginning of the year. She had known Jessie would not stay that girl forever, but she had naively never anticipated change so soon.
“It might be cool to see what it looks like straight,” Jessie said with a shrug. “But it’s for me, not him.”
“Then that’s all that matters.” Julia smiled sweetly as she picked up the bottle of heat defence spray, which was also bright pink. “Between you and me, boys don’t notice these things anyway. Now, let me see if I can remember how to do this.”
Julia took the hair in small sections and ran a comb through before ironing it flat. She worked around the head, transforming Jessie’s frizzy locks to a shiny and sleek style. Julia’s mind wandered to losing her own mother and all of the experiences she had been denied. Would they have done these things together? Julia smiled to herself, knowing that it did not matter. She could not change the past, but she was here doing this for Jessie.
When Julia was finished, she pushed the hair over Jessie’s shoulders and crouched down so that their faces were level in the mirror.
“You look beautiful,” Julia whispered with a squeeze of her shoulders.
Jessie looked up at her reflection, her eyes widening. She frowned a little as she turned her head from side to side, not seeming to recognise herself. Julia could not believe what a difference such a small change could make.
“I look like one of those girls,” Jessie whispered as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Dolly and Dom would freak if they saw me like this.”
“I won’t tell them if you don’t,” Julia whispered with a wink. “What time did you say Billy was getting here?”
Before Jessie could answer, there was a small knock on the front door. Butterflies flooded through Julia’s stomach, but they were not her own. She was feeling them for Jessie in a way she had never experienced before.
“I’m not sure if I like it,” Jessie whispered as she pushed her face into the mirror.
“Billy won’t care what you look like.” Julia kissed Jessie on the top of the head. “I’ll stall him while you finish getting ready.”
Jessie smiled her thanks as she rested her hand on Julia’s. They stayed there for a moment before Julia turned and headed for the door. She was scared if she had not, she might not have been able to force down the lump in her throat again. She blamed it on the wine, but she knew it was more than that.
Julia slipped out of Jessie’s bedroom, the overpowering stench of aftershave suffocating her.
“Billy,” Julia croaked as she wafted her hand in front of her nose. “You look – nice.”
Billy looked down at the suit that was three times too big for him. Julia had not seen him wearing anything other than trainers and tracksuits, and from how uncomfortable Billy looked, neither had he.
“Are you sure?” Billy slicked back his usually unruly hair. “It’s my dad’s court suit.”
“The aftershave his too?” Barker asked through a cough, his eyes watering.
“I borrowed a splash,” Billy announced proudly as he held his wrist out for Barker to smell. “He got it off the market really cheap. I think it fell off the back of a truck, if you get my drift.”
“I can smell it from here,” Barker said with a forced smile. “I think the whole of Peridale gets your drift.”
Julia shot Barker a look that read ‘play nice’, before sending a soothing smile in Billy’s direction. She remembered how nerve-wracking it was to date at that age. She had thrown up before her first date and had forced Sue to phone and cancel for her.
“Can I get you a drink while you wait?” Julia asked, rubbing her hands together. “I’ve got orange juice, or maybe some water?”
“Have you got beer?”
“You’re seventeen,” Barker mumbled.
“So?” Billy mumbled with an arch of his brow. “Been drinking for years.”
“Orange juice it is,” Julia said with a cheery smile. “Barker, why don’t you join me in the kitchen while Billy makes himself comfortable on the couch.”
Julia dragged Barker into the kitchen. They both clamped their hands over their mouths as they suppressed their laughter. Julia pushed open the kitchen window, the smell somehow having followed her in.
“Be nice,” Julia said with a slap on Barker’s arm. “He’s trying to be a gentleman.”
“Most gentlemen don’t have criminal records, and they certainly don’t have to borrow their dad’s court suit.”
Julia pulled the orange juice from the fridge and quickly poured a glass. She kissed Barker on the forehead before she took it through. Billy was sitting in the middle of the couch reading over the wine label.
“My mum drinks this stuff,” Billy said as he set it down on the coffee table next to Julia and Barker’s wine glasses. “Gets a good deal on it down the cash and carry.”
Julia had only met Billy’s mother once, but she had not left a very good impression. She was a chain-smoking woman who lived on the less than fortunate Fern Moore Estate with her two other kids, both of whom had different dads to Billy. Julia did not know the woman, so she tried not to unfairly judge her. She knew there was a chance, even if it was slim, that Billy’s mother might one day become Jessie’s mother-in-law.
Billy downed his orange juice in one gulp, turning swiftly as Jessie’s bedroom door opened. He quickly stood up and wiped his lips with his overhanging sleeve.
“Wow!” Billy’s eyes lit up as he looked Jessie up and down. “You look – different.”
“Is that your dad’s suit?” Jessie asked awkwardly as she teetered forward, an uncharacteristic shyness taking over her.
“It’s his court suit,” Barker answered for him with a knowing nod as he walked into the sitting room. “Jessie, you look – different.”
Jessie looked down at her outfit as Julia tried to think of another wor
d to describe her new look, but she could not. She did look different. Julia had never seen her wearing anything other than shades of black and grey, but she had replaced her baggy jeans with a pair of figure-hugging pale blue jeans. Her black hoody had been substituted for a white t-shirt tucked casually into the jeans. A small leather jacket covered her shoulders, and matching leather boots with chunky gold heels were on her feet. She wobbled on them as she tucked her sleek hair behind her ears.
“Sue took me shopping,” she said defensively, a frown creasing her brow.
“You look beautiful,” Julia assured her.
“Yeah,” Billy and Barker chimed together. “Beautiful.”
Jessie smiled shyly and let her straight hair fall over her face. She looked at Billy with wide eyes and red cheeks, and then to the door. He nodded and hurried around the sofa.
“Don’t be too late,” Julia called after them. “I’ll leave the door on the latch.”
Jessie did not respond as she opened the front door. Julia could feel her eagerness to leave and get out into the fresh air, but Barker had other ideas. He grabbed Billy’s arm before he could follow her out.
“You better look after her,” Barker whispered down at the young man. “Or you’ll have me to deal with.”
“I will,” Billy said as he brushed Barker’s hand away. “Chill out, Detective Inspector. I like her, alright?”
“Good,” Barker said, holding his hands up. “Where are you taking her?”
“Gonna go to Krusty’s Chicken near the estate,” he announced proudly. “They do the best –”
“No,” Barker said, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet. “Here’s thirty quid. Take her to The Comfy Corner. It’s Spicy Friday, and she loves the Vindaloo. Here’s a word of advice for you, kid. If a girl dresses up like that, don’t take her to Krusty’s Chicken. I don’t care if they have the best chicken wraps in the whole world.”
Billy saluted to Barker, pocketed the cash with a grin, and followed Jessie out of the cottage. Barker closed the door behind him, leaving it on the latch like Julia had promised.
“You keep making me love you more and more.” Julia wrapped her arms around Barker’s neck. “Just when I think I know you, you surprise me.”
“I need to keep you on your toes,” he whispered before kissing her.
They stumbled back, and Julia fell into the couch. They toppled onto the cushions, giggling behind their pressed lips. Julia edged up the couch, her head banging on something solid.
“Ouch!” Julia cried out as something crashed down to the ground. “What was that?”
She wriggled out from under Barker and looked over the edge. Her heart stopped when she saw that it was Barker’s briefcase and that the crash to the ground had sprung open the lock. She scrambled to her feet, scooped up as many of the papers as she could, and ran into the kitchen.
“‘Julia was a brave and smart woman, with a tongue of steel and the confidence to match’,” Julia read aloud from the page full of text. “‘She was the type of woman you didn’t know you wanted in your life until she was there. That was why I trusted her judgement when it came to the Gertrude Smith case’.”
“Julia!” Barker cried as he chased after her. “Give that back.”
“What is this?” she asked with a laugh. She flicked through the papers, her name popping up on every page. “Are these case notes?”
“Do they look like case notes?” he replied with blushing cheeks. “It’s – It’s embarrassing.”
“Tell me,” Julia said as she passed the paper back. “I’m not going to laugh.”
“I’m -,” Barker’s voice broke off as he looked down at the paper again. “I’m writing a book, okay?”
“A book?” Julia exclaimed.
“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”
“I’m not!” Julia cried. “I’m just a little shocked, that’s all. You’re writing a book?”
Barker nodded as he straightened out the paper. He could barely look Julia in the eyes.
“It’s always been a dream of mine,” he said, almost apologetically. “Ever since I was a kid in school. It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” Julia said. “You’ve written about me in your book?”
“I’m writing about the Gertrude Smith case,” he said with a shrug. “My first case in the village, and the case that brought us together.”
“And the case I solved,” Julia reminded him. “Wait, did I just read that you trusted my judgement? That’s not how I remember it happening, Barker. You told me to stay out, and you underestimated me at every turn.”
“It’s called creative licence,” he said with a small smirk. “I read about it online. It means you can stretch the truth and mould things. I should have trusted your judgement at the time, so now I am in fiction.”
Julia looked down at the paper, unsure of what to think. Pride swelled in her chest, but she could not believe Barker had not wanted to tell her. Even she shared her less than successful bakes with him for constructive criticism.
“Can I read it?”
“It’s not finished.” He walked back into the sitting room. “It’s a rough draft. It needs a lot of work.”
“I’d still like to read it.”
“You can,” he said as he stuffed the papers into the briefcase. “Just not yet. Is that Amy?”
Barker stood up and pulled back the net curtains. Julia joined him, the light from her sitting room illuminating the lane as the last of the sun drifted from the sky. She squinted into the dark and watched as a familiar pale pink cardigan bent over in front of Emily’s front door.
Julia did not hang around. She pushed her feet into her sheepskin slippers, pulled her dressing gown across her pyjamas and hurried down her own garden path. When she saw that Amy was laying a bouquet of red roses in front of Emily’s cottage, Julia slowed down and hung back as Amy sobbed into a handkerchief. After almost a minute of watching the woman cry, Julia cleared her throat.
“Julia?” Amy squinted into the dark. “What are you doing out here? In your pyjamas too!”
“I saw you from my cottage.” Julia stepped under the crime scene tape strapped across Emily’s garden gate. “Isn’t it a little late to be bringing flowers?”
“I’ve just been to the hospital,” Amy said with a stifled cry. “The doctor told me she might never wake up, and if she does, she might have – she might have permanent brain damage. It’s awful! It’s going to take a miracle.”
Amy thrust herself into Julia’s arms and wrapped herself around her. She comforted the old woman and rubbed her fluffy cardigan as she sobbed on her shoulder.
“She’s a tough old cookie,” Julia whispered as she looked around at the shrivelling rose petals strewn all over the garden. “I’m sure she’ll pull through.”
“It’s all my fault,” Amy mumbled as she pulled away and wiped her red nose. “I could have stopped all of this from happening at the beginning. Oh, Julia, we did a terrible thing, and now we’re being punished for it.”
“What did you do?” Julia asked, grabbing Amy’s shoulders and staring her dead in the eyes. “Tell me what you did. We can stop this now.”
Amy opened her mouth as though she was going to reveal everything Julia had suspected she had known all along, but she clamped her lips shut and pulled away from Julia. She hurried back down the garden path and thrust through the crime scene tape, yanking it off her as she scurried down the winding lane and back towards the village.
“She knows something, Barker,” Julia whispered after walking back to her cottage. “She said ‘they’ did something terrible.”
“Who are ‘they’?” he replied.
“I don’t know,” Julia sighed with frustration. “Amy and Emily? The Green Fingers? Someone else entirely? I’m so close to the truth, I can feel it.”
“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it tonight,” Barker said, taking Julia’s hands and pulling her back to the couch. “Jessie will be out for the re
st of the evening, and I think we were in the middle of something before you decided to bust open my briefcase.”
13
Julia looked out of her café window at the large white tent on the village green as she poured a shot of espresso into a latte. Despite everything that had happened, there was an excited buzz in the village, and from the unknown faces of the customers in Julia’s café, word of the grand prize reveal had spread beyond the Peridale border.
“I got here as quickly as I could,” Sue said as she hurried through the café red-faced. “I couldn’t find anywhere to park.”
Sue pecked Julia on the cheek and hurried around the counter to grab an apron, which rested nicely on her bump. Julia had called her first thing that morning when she had seen how many people were milling around the white tent in the heart of the village. A small part of Julia had assumed people would stay away considering the recent deaths, but it seemed to have had the opposite effect.
“There are TV cameras out there!” Dot exclaimed as she pushed through the tourists to bring her pot of tea to the counter. “Looks like they’re talking to Amy. Maybe I should go out there and get myself on the box. I am an official member, after all.”
“I’ve told you that you don’t need to bother with that, Gran,” Julia said. “I don’t even know what I thought you would find.”
“It’s better than sitting at home,” Dot said with a shrug. “Besides, it’s rather entertaining. All of that arguing really does get the blood pumping. I join in, and I don’t even know what they’re arguing about half of the time. It’s quite exciting.”
Dot pulled a small compact mirror from her handbag and checked her roller-set grey curls before pushing her way towards the door, no doubt to wrestle Amy away from the TV cameras.
“We’re out of wholemeal bread,” Jessie called from the kitchen. “And we’re getting low on butter too.”
Julia grabbed a ten-pound note from the petty cash tin and let Sue take over behind the till. She pushed through the growing line forming in front of the counter and burst out of the café into the summer heat. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she looked across the village green and into the open white tent. Mary and Brendan were talking in front of the tables containing three hundred of Julia’s multi-coloured macarons. Brendan said something, which caused Mary to cackle loudly. They both looked in the direction of the TV camera and interviewer, who were interviewing Amy outside the closed Happy Bean coffee shop. Dot lingered in the back of the shot, pacing back and forth and ignoring the interviewer who was trying to shoo her away.